This Website Closed for Maintenance
by Xrai
Summary: As the Number One Ianto Jones Appreciator, Jack thinks the IJS header could use more... Ianto. You know, more. Jack/Ianto. Follows "More Fanfic is Committed".
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **This Website Closed for Maintenance (or Why Jack Should Not Be Allowed Near the Internet) 1/2  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Character(s)/Pairing(s): **Ianto, Rhiannon, Jack, Rhys; Jack/Ianto  
**Summary:** As the Number One Ianto Jones Appreciator, Jack thinks the IJS header could use more... Ianto. You know, _more_.  
**Warnings: **Somewhat crackish.  
**Disclaimer:** If I owned Torchwood, the boys would have had more screentime together, more sex, and Ianto would still be alive.  
**A/N: **In celebration of the launching of the Ianto Jones Society on LJ.  
I have no idea why, but these fics are getting less and less cracky.

* * *

Ianto was hunched over, red-eyed in front of the computer in the Archive when his phone rang. Startled by the shrill sound that broke the thick dark silence, he fumbled his phone as he pulled it from his pocket and dropped it with a curse. He hesitated a moment in picking it up, hoping that the fall would have silenced it, but Britney Spears kept going on about a womanizer and he was going to kill Jack tomorrow for messing with his phone. Again.

With a sigh he stooped to pick it up, and pressing the answer button, found Rhiannon's tinny voice screeching through the air before he'd even brought the phone to his ear.

"Rhi?"

"Ianto Gareth Jones!"

"What are doing?" He glanced at the time displayed on the computer. Didn't she have to send the kids to school tomorrow? "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Shouldn't you?" she fired back. "I was on the Ianto Jones Society-"

Ianto groaned.

"-ked picture of you as the header!"

"Mmmhm- what?"

"I'd like to know why there's a naked picture of you as the header."

"A naked what?"

"How long haven't you been sleeping? Naked. Picture. Of. You. As. Header."

"Jack," Ianto growled, as he quickly typed in the website's address. Sure enough, the page loaded and Ianto found himself staring into the photoshopped blue eyes of himself in all his naked glory.

Maybe he'd choked. Or squeaked, or made some strangled sound of complete and utter horror because Rhiannon was chattering on in his ear about, well, it was probably about the shame he'd brought to the whole family or something and he wasn't hearing a thing she was saying.

Blood was rushing in his ears. He was pretty sure his face was giving off its own light. And for some reason he could absolutely not fathom, Jack popped into his head, singing "You don't have to put on that red light...!"

Rhiannon was right. He needed sleep. And Jack was banished to the bathtub for a year.

"-ll him?"

"Huh?"

"Weren't you listening to what I was saying?"

"No."

Rhiannon sighed a rush of static and Ianto winced. "When are you going to kill him?"

"Who? Jack?"

"No, the Prime Minister. Oh god, do you think he would have seen this? Wait, didn't you say that Torchwood was under the jurisdiction of the Queen? What if she'd seen this?"

Ianto really didn't want to think of how his next phone call with the Queen would go.  
_Queen: So, Mr. Jones, how are you doing?  
Ianto: Very well, Ma'am.  
Queen: I found William wanking over a photo of you the other day. I am not amused._

He was definitely spending too much time with Jack.

Did the Queen actually use words like "wank"?

"-nny sees this!"

"What?"

"You really aren't listening to a word I'm saying, are you?"

"Mmm, yeah, I'll call you back. Go to sleep. Bye. Love you."

"But Ian-"

Ianto hung up on her mid sentence. Then stared at the screen again. It wasn't a manip. He could recall Jack taking it, just something they'd done for fun when they'd felt a little silly one weekend, back when Owen and Tosh had still been alive.

He'd thought it rather tasteful and kept it when he'd thrown the others out. Lying on his side with his chin resting on his palm, smiling shyly at the camera. Ianto had insisted on the strategically place sheet, but it still wasn't a photo he wanted the whole world to see.

Ianto hacked into the IJS and quickly removed the header, replacing it with the original one. Then he shut down the computer and gathered up his jacket and tie. Jack was going to be very, _very_ sorry.

**-oOo-**

It was seventeen minutes past three in the morning when the doorbell rang. Rhys Williams knew this because he'd cast a bleary eyed glance at the alarm clock before he'd stumbled to the door.

Jack Harkness was smiling sheepishly at him. Had Rhys been more awake, he would have punched the other man in the face. He was however alert enough to notice the reddish palm print on Jack's left cheek.

"Ianto threw you out, huh? What did you do this time?"

"None of your business," Jack mumbled. "Can I stay for the night?" There was an overnight bag clutched in his hand.

Rhys was tempted to say no, but Gwen had told him a while back that Jack had moved completely out of the Hub, and if Rhys were to refuse him, Jack would have nowhere else to go. And Jack must also have gone to the same school of huge bambi eyes as Gwen. Rhys was a sucker for bambi eyes.

"Oh fine." He relented and Jack shuffled slowly into the living room. Rhys pointed at the sofa then tiptoed back into the bedroom to grab some spare blankets and a pillow.

When he came back into the living room, Jack slumped on the couch looking more than a little pathetic. The sight rather unnerved Rhys, and he quickly dumped the spare bedding onto the sofa before turning back to his room, hoping to make a quick retreat into his warm, comfy bed.

"Rhys?"

Rhys turned around.

"Thanks," said Jack quietly.

Rhys nodded. "It's all right, mate," he said, then headed back to sleep.

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** This Website Closed for Maintenance (or Why Jack Should Not Be Allowed Near the Internet) 2/2  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Character(s)/Pairing(s):** Ianto, Rhiannon, Jack, Rhys; Jack/Ianto  
**Summary:** As the Number One Ianto Jones Appreciator, Jack thinks the IJS header could use more... Ianto. You know, more.  
**Warnings: **Angst like woah, fluff, IMAGE HEAVY  
**Disclaimer: **If I owned Torchwood, the boys would have had more screentime together, more sex, and Ianto would still be alive.  
**A/N: **In celebration of the launching of the Ianto Jones Society, here: theijs.  
I have no idea why, but these fics are getting less and less cracky.

* * *

Seconds later, or that's what it felt like anyway, Rhys Williams woke up to the sound of Jack Harkness yelling in his living room.

Rhys stumbled out of bed.

"Look," Jack was snarling down his phone, "if you're going to be a brat-" He was promptly cut of by Ianto who was yelling loud enough for Rhys to hear snatches of words such as "-ard" and "off" and "-oddam-"

"Fine," snapped Jack. "Don't bother coming in to work today. Go and sulk in your room like the child you are." He hung up and threw the phone onto the couch. Looking up, he caught Rhys staring. "What?" he snarled.

Rhys hastily put up his hands. "Nothing mate. But if Ianto's anything like Gwen, arguing back isn't going to make it any better."

"Good thing Ianto isn't Gwen then," Jack snapped back, then stalked over into the kitchen and started rooting around in the cupboards -stalking into _Rhys_' kitchen and messing around in _Rhys_' cupboards. Oh god, what had he done to deserve this?

Jack pulled out a box of pancake mix. "What do you want for breakfast? I'm cooking."

Apparently cooking helped Jack relax. Who knew?

**-oOo-**

Ianto stepped into the Tourist Office, angry at the world at large. He'd still come to work despite Jack telling him not to. They'd ended up having another row in the office until Gwen had come in and threatened to shoot them both if they didn't shut up immediately. Then they'd been forced to endure her dressing down about keeping relationships out of the workplace and acting like adults -like she'd never brought up Rhys in front of Jack when she was fighting for something she wanted or like she'd never had a massive blow up with Rhys before.

He knew she'd meant well, though, and she did have a point, but it hadn't stopped him from stalking out of the room and slamming the door behind him before locking himself in the Archives. He'd refused to come up for anything, not even lunch, and by the end of the day hunger had just made him angrier and caffeine deprivation hadn't improved Jack's mood either.

Gwen had left, not before admonishing them both to stop acting stupid and make up. She'd extended an invitation to Jack to stay over again if he still wasn't allowed home, but when she'd gone to kiss Ianto on the cheek she'd given him a glare that clearly told him she did not want to see Captain Jack Harkness on her doorstep again.

That hadn't stopped them from having another argument, which had quickly ended up in a fight and rather rough sex.

Now, approaching midnight, he was tired, hungry and sore, but still adamant that he wasn't about to forgive Jack so quickly. Yet he also had to admit that he didn't want to fight anymore. He wanted to curl up in bed with Jack, and eat Jack's great cooking, and make love instead of trying throw each other up against the wall. He wanted Jack to stop being an idiot. He wanted to understand how Jack's brain worked.

_"I'm just trying to show how much I love you!"  
"Funny way of showing that, sir. Most people would consider that harassment."  
_  
At that point everything had gone downhill and they'd ended up leaving Jack's office in ruins. Gwen was going to have a fit tomorrow morning, convinced that they'd been trying to kill each other. Which wasn't quite so far from the truth, really.

Jack had then left the Hub. The SUV wasn't in the basement, and Ianto couldn't be arsed to track him. For all he knew Jack could have gone off for a shag with a stranger, which would just be more proof of what an absolute bastard he really was.

Fighting down the rage that rose at the thought, Ianto dropped heavily into the chair behind he desk. Maybe he could order takeaway from one of those twenty-four hour shops. He didn't want to go home back to his flat and empty bed, not when he was still simmering with anger. He had a camp-bed in the Archive, he could stay sleep there for the night, just like he'd done back when Lisa had been in the basement.

Lisa. He didn't think he'd ever had a row like this with her. What if they'd had? What would he have done then? He was no stranger to sleeping on the couch, but Lisa would never have thrown him our of their flat? If she had, would he have gone to a friend's? Would they have broken up after that?

Was he going to break up with Jack?

Feeling sick, he reached for a stack of flyers, determined not to think about that possibility.

That was when he saw the Post-Its.

**I didn't mean to embarrass you, or to violate your privacy. But I know people sometimes wonder why I'm with you. I know you do too.**

**I'm not saying you're not confident in yourself. Just stop being so goddamn self-deprecating. You're gorgeous dammit, and you're mine!**

**And I want to tell the world that. I know I'm being sappy. I don't care.**

**So if anyone's being a wanker, it's you, _sayang*_. Because I'm the one who doesn't deserve someone as amazing as you.**

**I never meant to hurt you and I hope you will accept this apology. I love you. So very, very, much.**

**You are the cream in my coffee (even though I take it black).**  
**You are the sun in my sky.**  
**You are the happiness in my day.**  
**You are the smile on my face.**  
**You are the beat in my heart.**  
**You are my Ianto. **

Ianto read them several times. Then he screwed them all up into a tight ball and threw them into the bin.

He went out and got some fish and chips, then settled in the little side room in the Tourist Office to eat. He'd barely gotten halfway through the meal when he had to set it aside, his throat too thick to swallow. Much to his annoyance, tears were running freely down his cheeks. God, he was such a girl, crying over some stupid arsehole.

The bead curtain rattled and he looked up, wiping his face furiously on the torn sleeve of his shirt.

It was Jack, and he looked like he'd been crying too. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, and the next think Ianto knew, they were both on their knees on the dusty floor of the tiny room, clutching at each other like they never wanted to let go and bawling like babies.

"I'm sorry," Jack kept mumbling, burying his face in Ianto's shoulder and getting tears and snot all over Ianto shirt. Which was probably unsalvageable anyway.

"You've been watching me," Ianto muttered, as stared absently at his hands, clawing into Jack's back. His nails were probably leaving indentations on the skin though the shirt. Ianto could feel Jack swallow.

"Was on the roof of the Millenium Center. Can access CCTV on my smartphone."

That would explain why Jack felt so cold. "I know. I installed that app for you."

"I never said thank you."

"Well, it was Tosh who made it."

"You know what Tosh would do if she saw us like this?"

"What?"

"Lock us in the cells."

"With Janet?"

"Nah, that would be Owen."

Ianto found himself giggling, but choked on it and it ended up a wet kind of snort. Jack snorted back and soon they were both huddled in a giggle-snorting pile on the floor.

Soon they fell quiet and unmoving, but Ianto didn't pay much attention to his legs which had both gone uncomfortably to sleep.

Then Jack broke the silence. "Ianto," he said quietly. "Let's go home."

**-oOo-**

_IANTO has entered the conversation_

RHIANNON: I see there's a new header up. Not as...exposed as the old one, thank god, but it's clearly still a photo of you.  
RHIANNON: You and Jack come to a compromise?  
RHIANNON: Kissed and made up and all that?  
IANTO: Yes.  
IANTO: But he owes me several weeks of mind-blowing make-up sex.  
RHIANNON: TMI!  
RHIANNON: That's nice to know.  
RHIANNON: I'm sure he meant well.  
RHIANNON: He's utterly besotted with you, you know?  
RHIANNON: But he reminds me a bit of Johnny, they can both be very bad at the "feelings" thing.  
IANTO: What does Johnny do?  
RHIANNON: Clomps into the kitchen in his dirty boots then sweeps me up and gives me a snog. While I'm cooking. He's lucky I haven't dropped a pot on him yet.  
IANTO: Lol.  
RHIANNON: Hey, if you need someone to do the graphics for the site, Johnny can do it.  
RHIANNON: He's been taking a Photoshop course. He's pretty good at it too. I'll send you of the stuff he made of the kids.  
IANTO: I don't think Johnny would be interested in doing stuff for the IJS.  
RHIANNON: You're wrong there, Ianto-bach.  
RHIANNON: He does like you, you know.  
RHIANNON: He writes haikus about you on the IJS.  
RHIANNON: Not so much about you and Jack. Just you. He's very proud of you. He'd just rather jump off a cliff than say it.  
IANTO: JOHNNY DOES WHAT?  
IANTO: ... O_O;;

_Fin_

_*__sayang_ - Boeshanian term of endearment


End file.
